


Every Penny Counts

by PurpleLex



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Pet Store, Divorced Frank, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Crack, Frank Castle Jr (mentioned) - Freeform, Kastle Week, everyone loves dogs, kastle - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-12
Updated: 2016-05-12
Packaged: 2018-06-07 22:31:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6827833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PurpleLex/pseuds/PurpleLex
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kastle Pet Shop AU (requested by @hheart125 on tumblr!)</p><p>“She's Penny,” says a deep baritone behind her, and Karen's not proud of the way she jumps, startled. She braces a hand on the wall and stands, the dog — Penny, apparently — scrambling for leverage on the arm she's holding her with. “You ever held a dog before?” The man asks, tone more amused this time as he tilts his head.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. part one

**Author's Note:**

> This is dedicated to @hheart125 who gave me this adorable prompt a couple weeks ago! Hope I do it justice for you!! <3 I'm dual purpose posting it for the Kastle Week prompt: AU, because convenient timing, yeah?
> 
> The tags are not lying, this is a horrible amount of fluff! But what else are AUs for? Lol ;)
> 
> Posting in two chapters because I liked the flow of it better this way, IDK, and at the very end are miscellaneous headcanons if you're interested. Thanks for reading!!

Karen is a cat person. She knows this without a doubt.

When she was seven, she was surprised with a trip to the pet store on her birthday, and she fell in love with a Grey Tabby that was promptly named Whiskers. Hey, she was _seven_. 

Whiskers was a devoted pal, and almost exclusively affectionate towards her. She’d had him for almost eleven years, actively making plans that summer before college on how to smuggle him onto campus, or at least make sure Kevin would take good care while she was gone, but then Whiskers passed in his sleep. 

It wrecked her. She vowed never to own a pet again. 

 _And yet_ , here she was, enthralled by a pet store. She knows she shouldn’t be. She doesn’t even have an apartment that allows pets, and she definitely should not be so enthralled by the _puppies_. After all — she, Karen Page, is a cat person through and through.

* * *

The store, dubbed _Frank’s Ruff & Tumble_, is conveniently situated in a small, ground-floor storefront almost exactly halfway between her apartment building and workplace.

Well, it is not necessarily _convenient_ , since really there's no reason for her to walk to and from work every day. It's ten busy blocks one way, and sometimes she walks home late enough that she is clutching her purse strap tightly and looking as vigilant as one would expect a paranoid terrorist to be. 

But there is a good, cheap coffee stand two blocks along the way, and then three blocks from work there's this hole in the wall cafe that is never packed and serves up delicious pastries that she has enough time to wolf down before arriving for her 8-5 shift.

She doesn’t really notice the pet store until she walks by on a Tuesday and watches the sign get taken down. She thinks that it must have gone out of business, a sad but all too common situation for little shops that just don’t have enough commitment to make it. 

But then on Wednesday, the rest of the front isn't being torn up, it is being cleaned. On Thursday, there’s a new light up version of the sign being installed. 

Something warm fills her at the sight, makes her linger a few beats by the trash can on the sidewalk as she finishes her coffee. It is the same feeling she gets whenever Matt and Foggy win a case, when she sees her neighbors helping each other out. It’s a bit like hope but it’s a lot like admiration as she watches an underdog make it.

She always liked the logo, she thinks now, and the lights that blast out from behind it once it’s plugged in only make it more striking. It looks like a splash of watercolors — she would almost say the droplets were blood, but they’re a rainbow of colors and not just red, and she blames her initial train of thought on the bad influence that Hell’s Kitchen can be sometimes — and inside the circular shape is a path of crooked paw prints. 

It’s a little generic, but it’s friendly. _Cutesy_.

It brings a smile to her face for a moment and she ponders the rest of her walk that while the change is interesting, it doesn’t entirely match with the _Frank_ part of the title. That’s not a name she associates with bright colors and pet puns. She doubts there’s even a Frank at all.

* * *

There is a puppy kennel by one of the windows. After noticing the shop, Karen gets in the habit of casting a glance its way every time she passes by, same as she does with all of the other shops she likes along this walk. It starts with glances, but then her gaze gets more focused on the kennel. On watching the puppies. 

Sometimes they’re asleep, other times they’re climbing over each other, all different sizes and breeds. Sometimes there are only a few, and other times it looks like the space is almost filled with them. One time she passes, a little sandy-haired boy comes out of nowhere and jumps in, starts playing with a Golden Retriever being tackled by the rest of the bunch. It puts a smile on her face for the rest of the day.

Karen glances every day, twice a day, and enjoys the sights, but she doesn’t notice _how much_ she brings it up idly in conversation until one day when she and Foggy are getting lunch. 

They became quick friends many months ago after he stopped in the office a few times while helping out one of her co-workers. It only took the second elevator ride together for her to figure out they had a kinship when it came to sense of humor. They’d gone on a date, once, but shortly thereafter agreed to just be good friends. She was thankful. 

She always needed more friends in this city too full of strangers, determined as she was to make a life here instead of being stuck forever being seen as just another hometown girl back in Vermont.

They’re eating lunch now at a place closer to his work than hers, but she’s fine with the extra walk because these salads are more than worth it, certainly taste better than whatever leftovers she would be eating at her desk right now. She’s rambling on absently about a strange little red-haired dog she’d seen but couldn’t figure out the breed of when Foggy clears his throat.

She glances up. He’s got his brows furrowed a bit comically. “Karen, just buy the dog.”

“I don’t want a pet,” she balks.

“Really? You’re _positive_ about that? You hear yourself, right?”

She shifts in her seat and then takes a stab at a cherry tomato to avoid his pointed grin. “I’m serious. They’re just cute to look at.”

“Mhm."

“Besides, you know me. I like _cats_. I’m a cat person. And I’m pretty sure they only have dogs.”

Foggy rolls his eyes with a laugh. “I really doubt that.”

She’s not sure if he’s talking about her first statement or her second, so she ignores the possibility of the first. “Well, I think I saw something flying around in there once. Maybe a parrot.”

“You have a _seriously_ unhealthy obsession with this store, Karen.”

“I do not!”

He snorts.

* * *

She made the joke once, a long time ago. 

At least, she is pretty sure it was a long time ago, because she hasn’t seen Matt in a while as he is vaguely working on his own case that’s been taking up his nights lately, and she knows that when she made the joke, it was during a time all three of them were hanging out every other day. He was sporting a nasty cut on the underside of his jaw that prompted the comment.

_“You should get a dog!”_

Five innocent words muttered out as a tease, a joke that Foggy happily joined in on, and Matt smirked at with some self-deprecating comments of his own. They were definitely on their way to getting drunk when she made this joke, some more than others. She was sure of it. Except that somehow Foggy _remembered_ and he’s been thinking about it.

“Come on, Karen, let’s just pop in. One minute! I want to get the lay of the land, check out what they have.”

“You sure you shouldn’t ask Matt about this first?”

“Karen, _please_?”

He’s practically begging her from where he’s stopped, and thus made her stop, right by the door of _Frank’s Ruff & Tumble_. She should have known he would have an ulterior motive for conveniently showing up at her usual coffee stand and then offering to walk her to work. But now he’s got that face on, all innocent and hopeful.

“Fine. _Fine_!” She relents, stern gaze leveled at him. “But only a minute....I don’t want to be late. You know they dock my time.”

He smirks and grabs the door. “You’re just afraid it’s not going to meet the huge expectations you’ve come up with in your head.”

“Don’t push it, Foggy,” she deflects.

The inside is much bigger than the outside suggested. She’s glad when he is the one to make a Narnia comment first, so she's not the only one thinking it. She laughs soft.

From the outside, it’s just a single glass door with two tall windows on either side, and a rolling security grille that gets pulled down over the front at night. She hasn’t ever come by late enough to see that, but she recognizes the surreptitious band of metal under the awning. This outward appearance does nothing to suggest that the inside opens up slightly off to the sides and stretches far, pretty damn far actually compared to other places, to the back. 

It’s an open floor plan, and the shelves are at a nice enough height that she doesn’t have to peer up at anything — except for the ones that stack extra pet beds along one of the side walls, but that's no surprise. It’s bright, white, pretty clean given its purpose, and sporting enough splotches of color around on signs and shelves to be inviting.

The kennel by the window that she always looks at isn’t actually a kennel, she sees now, but a play-pen serving a dual purpose. There’s a sign next to it that says to ask the front desk before picking up any of the puppies. They’re all rescues from the local shelter, too, rehabilitated and ready to be adopted. 

That was a surprise that softened her heart even more. The red-haired pup is there sleeping up against what she thinks is a German Shepherd, and up close she can tell that it has grown a little more into its paws. She makes out the breeds Irish Setter and Border Collie from the tag hanging off its collar. She wonders what its rescue story is.

Foggy puts his hands on his hips and peers into the pen, pulling her back to reality. She's here for him, not herself. “Which one screams Matt?”

“What?"

“You know, that whole _‘pet looks like their owner_ ’ thing?”

“Really? That’s the parameter you’re using for picking out a dog?” She’s shaking her head.

“Matt’s good at taking care of himself, he doesn’t need a dog for that," Foggy shrugs. “He needs a dog that will connect to him _spiritually_.” It’s so absurd, she doesn’t know what to say, so she bites her lip to keep back any amused retorts. “Sorry, pal, but you don’t make the cut,” he says then to a Yorkie that’s shuffled near and is peering up at him. Foggy reaches over to pat the little one’s head anyway.

Karen sighs and crosses her arms. She spies a tan and black Pug in the corner that looks a little older than the rest. She points it out. “What about him?” Foggy starts belly laughing so quickly that she blinks, and his laugh is actually kind of infectious, but she feels uncomfortable with him doing it in the quiet store. She crosses her arms. “What? I’m serious!”

He waves a hand and tries to stutter out something, but there’s steps a ways behind them, heavy from boots. She glances back and sees a broad-shouldered man coming towards them with a grown out version of a military-style crew cut. Karen can’t tell if he’s actually coming at them, or just walking up to the front to pay for something at the unmanned register, but regardless the extra presence makes her rolls her eyes at her friend and feel a bit embarrassed. 

It’s silly, and she knows it, but she still stomps out. “Fine, laugh it up; I have to get to work!”

Foggy catches up to her within a block and puts a hand on her arm, apologizing profusely. Turns out he was laughing so hard because he thinks it’s a shame Matt won’t be able to see the perfect comparison. That makes her brighten a little.

He starts to mention something about the other guy in the store, too, but then the trash pickup truck they pass is honking loud, and they get distracted. Or, rather, Foggy gets distracted. Karen lets him because she doesn't want to keep talking about the store the next four blocks. Not since he seems pretty keen on this dog idea and she _knows_ she’ll get dragged into everything else he plans to do, too.

* * *

Her predictions come true when she gets a text about wanting to meet at the store again on Saturday so he can buy the dog.

Karen pretends like it's putting her out, but the truth is that in the last week she's been looking up the temperaments of Irish Setters. She is big enough to admit to herself, at least, that she isn’t trying to weasel out of joining Foggy because she doesn’t want to help, or because she doesn’t want to go to the store — the thing is, she’s having a bit of a problem with _self-control_. She doesn't want to go near the shop again until she feels for certain that she won’t cave.

She can't take care of a dog right now, not with her long working hours. And anyway, there's the apartment problem; her landlord would have a fit if she tried to bring in a dog….And, well, there’s also that she always thought of herself as a cat person.

Look, it's a little thing, but the foundation of a person is built on a lot of _little_ things, and Karen's allowed to be a bit miffed upon discovering that she might not be exactly who she thought she was. She might just be a general pet person, instead. And that’s just fine, she can roll with that no problem — if it didn’t also make her want _so badly_ to adopt a dog she has no space for.

She's _really_ tempted to simply say no to going altogether. But, it’s Foggy. And it's for Matt. Which leaves his only other option to go to Marci for assistance, who she's met in the past, and who she is pretty sure doesn't have enough sentimentality or patience for this sort of thing.

Karen makes him change the plan to Sunday, then agrees.

* * *

“You can't _only_ buy the dog and a leash.”

“Why not?”

Karen huffs, trying to cover up her smile at the way the Pug in Foggy's arms is flailing, seeking more and more attention. She's trying to be chastising here. “Um, it's kind of rude?” Foggy keeps rubbing the dog's belly. “I'm sure Matt will appreciate this gesture once he gets past his shock, but you're really going to make him go shopping for bowls and a bed and the whole nine yards right after?”

He's making cooing noises to the puppy, unperturbed.

She pulls her trusty notepad out of her purse. “Okay, fine, I made—”

“A one-stop shoppers list for a first-time pet owner? Thank you!”

He's snatching it out of her hand and striding down through the aisles, pug tucked into his arm, before she realizes what happened. Then she glares at his back. “You used me!”

“Nope, I _relied_ on your predictable preparation skills! Which, incidentally, are also the best. Consider it delegating without the whole asking part!”

The old woman picking up a new cat collar near the door looks at them funny.  

Karen understands with a start how strange they look, shouting at one another across the store. She turns away quickly. He can come to the painful dilemma of his no cart and thus short-handed situation in a minute and then come crawling back for help. She's not going to chase him down. She's not upset enough — or, alternatively, obsessive compulsive enough — for _that_.

Karen wanders out of the accessories aisle and past the giant cage housing a strange mix of birds — she knew she saw one flying free once, _she knew it_. There's a cute green one that's small, reminds her of a Finch, but she knows that's not right. She just doesn't know many other names for bird breeds. Not like she knows cats, or lately dogs.

Her gaze has snapped to the play pen at the end of the aisle before she realizes.

The Irish Setter mix is standing with its paws just barely reaching the top of the railing. It looks eager, and starts wagging its tail when she meets its stare. Soft brown eyes implore into her soul. It whines. 

She falls in love.

“Hey there,” Karen says softly as she approaches. She picks it — _her_ , it's a her — up with ease and settles down on her knees next to the pen's fence. “You're beautiful. Why haven't you been adopted yet, hm?”

She whines again and then she's pressing her forehead against Karen’s stomach and going no bones on her lap as she rubs her. It melts Karen’s heart. She scratches gently at the puppy’s ears a few times before she notices the scar on her neck. It's about two inches long and it's thin. No doubt it'll be mostly invisible by the time she’s full grown.

Karen frowns at it before reaching for the tag on her collar. “What's your name?”

“She's Penny,” says a deep baritone behind her, and Karen's not proud of the way she jumps, startled. She braces a hand on the wall and stands, the dog — _Penny_ , apparently — scrambling for leverage on the arm she's holding her with. “You ever held a dog before?” The man asks, tone more amused this time as he tilts his head.

She recognizes him, does a discreet double-take. Boots, crew-cut, broad shoulders. He's wearing only a dark green T-shirt this time instead of a jacket. He looks less intimidating than before, helped along by the smile in his dark eyes. She can’t help noticing the toned muscles of his arms now that they are in plain sight. She _should not_ stare at the muscles.

Karen raises her eyebrows as she tries to stay focused and look him in the eye. “Uh— no, sorry, actually, I haven't. Only— only cats. What am I—”

She's about to ask what she's doing wrong, but he doesn't wait. He takes a step forward, into her personal space, and then he's grabbing her hand from off the wall. For some reason, she lets him. Probably due to her shock.

He maneuvers her hand under Penny's hips, rotates the dog in her arms, and fixes her hold. He's gentle and professional about it. Well, as professional as one can be when invading your personal space to help a dog out. He steps back as soon as he's done, and she thinks it’s oddly gentlemanly for Hell’s Kitchen. 

“There. Need to keep a firmer hold. Cats land on their feet, dogs don’t.”

“Thanks.”

He gestures with his thumb over his shoulder. “Your friend — dressed in the suit, adopting Charlie, the Pug? He was asking for you.”

“Oh, right,” she huffs a laugh and smiles. “Nice description.”

He smirks.

Karen bites her lip and then looks down at the puppy in her arms, contemplates what to do. But she already knows the answer before she has to properly think up the question — she has to put Penny back with the rest and go help Foggy with her free hands. Besides, the part about not having a suitable apartment was never the part she was in denial about. No, that's serious, and not something she can change any time soon. 

She sighs quietly to herself and scratches Penny's head one last time. 

“She likes you. But you look… _conflicted_."

She peers over at the stranger for a beat, finds him watching her closely with unabashed curiosity. Helping her with her hold, getting her for Foggy, not walking away after she all but dismissed him. It seems strange to think that he works here, considering he's not a bored looking teenager, but there's no other reason for his presence or behavior.

Karen frowns and leans over to put Penny back. The dog immediately jumps on its hind legs with its front paws against the railing, just the way she’d looked at her a few minutes ago. Guilt washes over her. She shouldn't have given Penny this hope, only to crush it. “My landlord's strict about pets. I'm sure you've heard that problem a lot,” she smiles wryly as she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear.

He looks pensive, but nods, conceding. 

She thanks him and hurriedly walks away to find Foggy, putting the stranger to the back of her mind as she zeroes in on where her friend is fumbling with dog beds. The ridiculous sight is enough to distract her into smiling again.

“You are _not_ getting that one!” She immediately protests, shaking her head.

“It's perfect!”

“It's way, _way_ too fluffy.”

“That’s what makes it so perfect!” Foggy waggles his eyebrows. “Come on, look at this little guy’s face and tell me it’s not the face of a dog that _deserves_ to get lost in a bed fit for a king? I know, I’m jealous too, but I think he really does deserve it.”

She snorts, rolls her head on her shoulders, and then relents as she stretches up on her tip-toes to get one that has a little less shelf dust on it. “And you talk about _me_ wanting a dog. Why don’t you get Charlie there for yourself?”

“Charlie?” Foggy shifts the leash in his hand and finds the name-tag on the dog’s thin, temporary collar. “Oh. Huh. Anyway — please, Karen, I’m offended you’re ignoring the look-alike factor. I’m _obviously_ more of a Beagle. Do you see this handsome face, and this hair? I spend a lot of time on this hair, my spirit dog has to have the right ears to compensate for that.”

“A Beagle is also tiny,” she points out, teasing.

“I’m well aware of my stature, thank you, and I’ve taken it into consideration for this comparison. Seriously, Karen, _the ears._ Think about it.”

* * *

 

Leash, a more colorful collar, waste bags, bed, bowl tray, two bowls, small starter bag of food, rawhide treats, and three toys. They have things stuffed precariously under their arms and in hands. Karen knows she's going to have a few light bruises pop up where she's holding things tightly in her arms. At least the Pug is able to be put on the leash so they don’t have to keep carrying him.

They're deciding amongst themselves how to pay, coming to the agreement of Foggy putting it on his credit card and Karen insisting to help pitch in with some cash because it is a joint surprise that she’s actually pretty excited about now, when the stranger steps behind the counter. He must be the only employee.

“Charlie's paperwork,” he says, handing a stack of stapled papers to Foggy. “History, shots, the works. Don't forget to change registration. Attached recommended vets in the area for you, and there's a page on poisons. Dos and don'ts for feeding good ole Charlie there. _Take it seriously_ ,” he says, looking up at the last part.

His gaze is almost threatening. Foggy swallows.

“Thanks,” Karen says for him, because someone has to.

The stranger nods and starts ringing things up.

“You gonna come back for Penny?” He asks suddenly, casually, while the receipt prints. It breaks the silence that had otherwise descended in the past few minutes.

She's trying to balance some of the bags in her hands and is thrown by the question for a moment. At least she's not the only one — Foggy wears his confusion clear as he glances between them. “Uh…no." Karen shakes her head. “A great dog like that, she'll be adopted in no time.”

“Hate to guilt-trip you, ma'am, but she's been shy to everyone that walks through those doors. Everyone except you.”

She perks up a little. He catches it.

He doesn't so much as look at Foggy again as he hands over the receipt before grabbing a pad and pen by the register. He levels her with a stare. “Look, you're right, I've heard the apartment story before. Lot of times that story ends with someone finding a less shitty landlord,” he says bluntly. She bites her lip to keep back a smirk. “So, you give me your number, I can let you know if or when Penny gets adopted. Till then, consider the window open. _Deal_?”

She's intrigued. 

More than intrigued, actually, about why this guy seems to be trying so hard to sell her a dog. But after that look at Foggy before, she's inclined to believe it really is because he cares about these animals that much. They are all rescues. She walked the store, read all the placards. His care makes sense, and maybe that explains why a guy like him works at this store.

Karen turns her head, peers over at the puppy pen. Penny is curled up in the corner, big eyes blinking tiredly at the passing traffic outside the window. She looks like she’s waiting. She looks _lonely_. Foggy will tease her mercilessly for this, she knows it, but looking at the dog, she can’t help but see herself before she left Vermont. Maybe even some days here, too.

“Okay, deal,” she says with a hesitant smile, and gives her number.

* * *

They're out the door before she’s turning back, pushing it open half-way. “Name's Karen,” she shares boldly, telling herself it's because he will need it when he inevitably calls her to inform her that Penny's gotten a better home. But, for now, she's feeling more hopeful than usual, and maybe she just wants him to know her name, too.

There’s nothing _bad_ about that.

He nods, and that smile in his eyes returns. She's sure of it. “ _Frank_.” Her eyebrows shoot up to her forehead. "Something wrong?” He asks, tilting his head again. It’s kind of attractive, and that thought makes her blush.

“Nope, nothing — thank you!” She leaves before she can make an ass out of herself.

 _Frank's Ruff & Tumble_ actually _has_ a Frank in it. Now she just feels like an idiot. 

Karen ducks her head a bit when she catches back up to Foggy, hopes he doesn’t notice the blush or the strange smile that keep threatening to break out across her face. She just might die from embarrassment if she’s teased about this too.


	2. part two

By the time Matt returns from the gym, they’ve been at his apartment a solid hour.

Foggy uses his spare key to let them in, letting Charlie off the leash quickly so he can run around and sniff at his leisure while they unpack. They take the tags off everything, debate for a good ten minutes where to put the bed and bowls, and have a _brief_ panicking moment when they couldn’t find Charlie — it was fine, he’d just wandered into the bathroom and gotten himself stuck between the toilet and tub. 

They’ll have to warn Matt about that. 

Their stomachs growl, after, so Foggy picks up take-out from a Japanese place around the block, and then they settle in at the couch, eating and watching sitcom reruns. Despite Charlie lying between them on the couch, passed out to the world without a pant to be heard, Matt _immediately_ _knows_ there’s a dog in the vicinity. 

His face scrunches up slightly as he asks after it. He looks _just like Charlie_ with that expression.

Foggy must think the same thing, at the same time, because they burst into laughter together. That part wakes up Charlie. The Pug all but slides off the couch before going to sniff over Matt. As soon as Matt leans over to give a friendly pat, the dog is on his back over with the express intent of demanding a full belly rub.

“See? What did I say, Karen, do they fit together or what?”

“Oh, perfectly,” she says, still recovering from her laughter.

“What did you two do?” There’s warning in Matt’s voice.

“Congratulations, pal! You finally got yourself a pet! Now I know you said you didn’t want one, couldn’t take care of it, had a schedule too busy for one, yeah yeah. But no take-backs!” He grins, but then quickly adds, voice grave, “No seriously, I don’t think the guy at the store will let me take the dog back, he’s pretty, uh, _intimidating_. He’d probably think the worst and I’d end up on some special government dog abusers list.”

“That’s not a thing,” Karen rolls her eyes. “Though it should be.”

“Hey, ye of little faith. That would be just my luck.”

“ _Foggy_.” Their heads swivel. Matt’s tone is more exasperated this time.

The man in question gets up to clasp his friend’s shoulder. “Come on, you’ll love him! He’s just what you need. And, you know what, take him for a walk, he’s guaranteed to help your already enviable abilities with the ladies. You don’t know it, but he looks just like you.”

“I’m blind, not unable to touch. His face is wrinkled.”

“Have you seen yourself when you smile? Gotta be honest, man, _lots_ of dimple lines. It’s adorable — in a manly way.”

“He’s a really affectionate dog,” Karen points out with a fond smile as Charlie starts to lick Matt’s hand. “Give him a chance.”

They both know there is no way Matt would demand the dog be taken back, or get rid of it, pawning it off on someone else. He is too big-hearted for that.

Still, they share a high-five outside Matt’s door when they leave later, showing themselves out because Charlie is currently monopolizing his new owner’s time somewhat forcefully as he lays out over Matt’s lap, head crooked into elbow and promptly started snoring loudly this time. Matt lets him, with a big smile, accepting the dog in a quick two hours.

Foggy does a fist-bump after the high-five, too, and she shakes her head.

* * *

Karen starts her quest of looking into different apartments that night, though she doesn’t announce her driven intentions to Foggy. She doesn’t need to remind him to tease her when he’ll remember to start again soon enough. 

Really, though, it’s a smart thing to do regardless of if everything in the universe works in her favor and she gets to adopt Penny — her building isn’t _exactly_ well maintained, _or_ in the best part of the neighborhood. And she thinks that she might have enough saved up now that she could afford it if she made the conscious choice to scrape by for a while.

The last time Kevin had come to visit her for a weekend, he had tried writing her a check, but she had been adamant about doing this herself.

This was one of the only reasons she was still working at Union Allied. No one looks very long at the secretaries, like her, yet they pass everything right by her. _Idiots_. She’s seen enough of the paperwork printed up and deals made to know that they are just another company focused on making the most money possible, even if it means resorting to some suspicious means. 

She just has to move, save up some more again, and then she can quit and try job hunting for something else.

In the plan she’s had in her head since moving to Hell’s Kitchen, not once was _‘pet-friendly apartment’_ prioritized over _‘non-sketchy job’_. But, then, who ever really plans for an adorable dog like Penny coming into their life? It just happens.

* * *

A couple days later, she’s walking past _Frank’s Ruff & Tumble_ on her way home from work. She does her usual glance over, out of habit, but ends up looking back quickly at the sight of Penny running freely through the store. Had she gotten out? Did Frank know? What if one of the customers opened the door and they went running out, got hit by a car?

Another dog, larger, appears and starts doing circles around Penny then, sniffing all over while trying to play.

Karen doesn’t really have to think about whether or not to insert herself before she’s stepping forward and opening the door only enough to slip in. The bell jingles soft overhead and as soon as Penny sees her, she’s running over. She goes no bones on Karen again but from the odd angle she’s just going no bones on her heels. That makes her laugh.

“What are you doing?” She teases, reaching down to her up. She’s careful about it, trying to recall how Frank had shown her. 

Now that she can get a better look, she can see that the other dog is a Gray Pit Bull. He’s fully grown, so a couple years old, as far as she can tell. There’s a vibrant blue collar around his neck that looks much more permanent than what Penny and the rest have. Probably not escaped from the pen, then. He sniffs her from a couple feet of distance but doesn’t approach. 

“Don’t worry, I won’t bite as long as you don’t.”

She eyes him a moment longer, but she can’t ask him the questions she wants — well she _can_ , but she’s not going to get any verbal answers — so she starts to head towards the back. Karen’s about to call out when a little girl comes bursting out of one of the doors marked _Staff Only._ Almost white-blonde hair whips around her face and she nearly runs into Karen, but they both dart out of the way in opposite directions just in time.

“Sorry!” She yelps, dropping a couple of the treats that are fisted in her hands.

“No, it’s alright, you’re fine,” Karen smiles.

“Lisa, are you okay?” A muffled voice calls from the room. It sounds an awful lot like Frank, and realization dawns before the little girl yells back. 

“There’s someone here, daddy!”

Penny is squirming in her grip, eyes on the prize that are the bone-shaped treats on the floor, so Karen kneels to set her down properly. As soon as her paws touch the floor, she’s making quick work of running over, tail wagging, and slobbering all over the floor. Penny follows the trail that the little girl ends up leaving as she runs to the pen up front and liberally feeds the puppies.

Frank emerges, and as soon as he sees her, he raises his eyebrows. “Either you’ve got the best luck on the planet, ma’am, or you’re not here about Penny.”

“Can I choose option number three?” She quips, and it earns a confused little smile from him. Karen does it before thinking and then swallows, rolls her lips. He has kids, so he’s probably married — she should not say anything even remotely flirty again. _Seriously_. She folds her arms. “I saw Penny and the other dog, the Pit Bull, running loose, and I didn’t see anyone else. I was…just checking, I guess.”

Confusion clears into understanding and then Frank holds up two fingers in a ‘wait’ gesture before turning his head. “Lisa? Did you let Penny out?” He asks loud enough that both his words and the warning tone in his voice are heard across the store.

There’s a beat of silence. “Yeah, but—”

“ _Lisa_.”

“—she and Max wanted to play!”

Frank sighs, grinning small with exasperated fondness. “If you let one of them out, you have to keep your eyes on them at all times. Remember?”

“Sorry!”

Karen raises a hand to her face, laughs lightly into her fingers at the scene she’s gotten a front row seat to. Frank rubs the back of his neck, looks at her. “Thank you for the heads up, ma’am.”

“No problem.” Another quiet giggle escapes her, then, at the way his ears have reddened. He smirk is bemused, but she doubts he understands why she’s laughing. 

“You, uh, still looking?”

“What?” She asks, brow furrowing, and for half a second she thinks that maybe he’s asking after her dating life.

“For a new place,” he supplies patiently. “For Penny.”

“Oh, yeah! _Yeah_.” She clears her throat, tucks her hands away as she crosses her arms again. “I don’t suppose you have any recommendations?”

“Sorry, ma’am, can’t help you there.”

“Worth a shot.”

He tilts his head and then nods, and she thinks he has striking eyes, and it is that thought that finally makes her step _back_. No flirting, she reminds herself. That’s not a hard rule to follow, she just has to _actually_ _listen_ to herself. 

Lisa runs up asking if she can feed the birds, and Karen slips away with a wave to both of them.

* * *

She makes the mistake of touring a lot of nice buildings way outside of her price range, just because she can, before narrowing down the couple options she can reasonably entertain. She wishes she could find a deal of a place like Matt’s, but his was only a deal because it would make anyone else unable to sleep. And she _needs_ her sleep. 

Not for the first time, she looks at the prices and envisions all that she can afford for the same amount back in Vermont, the comparison enough to make her cringe. The New York premium is staggering, but she picks a place in a refurbished building with great lighting, and puts a deposit down that she isn’t able to take back.

* * *

Karen catches sight of the dog before she sees Frank.

It’s about the last place she expects, as she’s coming out of the cheap Chinese take-out joint around the corner from her apartment, but the Gray Pit Bull is there and he’s stretching the end of his leash to sniff at her. He’s panting as he does it and looks more than a little adorable.

“ _Down_ , Max,” Frank calls firmly. The dog shuffles back, but he keeps sniffing. When she turns around and smiles in greeting, he nods. “Ma’am. Sorry about that.”

“No, don’t be. I’m pretty certain if I gave him anything from this bag, he’d be my best friend forever,” she jokes.

He chuckles. “You’re not wrong.”

She tucks her hair back self-consciously. “Which way are you headed?”

“Going to loop back around at 49th.”

“I live on 48th,” she shares, then catches herself with a shrug. “Well, for two more weeks.”

“Yeah? Find another place?” She smiles and he looks pleased and she has to look away before she falls into another stare, casting her smile down to Max instead. He hasn’t stopped eyeing the bag for a second. “I’ll walk with you — if you don’t mind,” Frank offers.

She can decline, but that’s a bit awkward, since they’re headed the same direction. And she doesn’t _want_ to say no, she just has warning bells going off in her head about how he’s probably married. Karen is not proud of the way her eyes flick to his hand. _Oh_. _No ring_. But she shouldn’t make any assumptions. Assumptions are a _terrible_ idea.

“Okay,” she agrees, and they fall in step alongside each other. 

Max strides happily ahead of them, like he’s leading the way, but occasionally he hangs behind to smell something and ends up bumping into their legs. It makes her laugh, and Frank shake his head, but it’s kind of nice. Comfortable.

They make some small talk that, once started, turns into a little more than that. She lets him know how Charlie’s doing, so he shares how bittersweetly his son reacted to the news of the pug being adopted, and in the process she learns he’s got two kids and been divorced over a year. 

There’s also a reference to his military service at one point, so she shares how her brother almost signed up but got talked into joining the family business, instead. She shares a story of how Kevin and her used to run through the woods like idiots, recreating GI Joe scenes, and he shares how his son used to fill up a piano bench with crumbs trying to recreate the same sort of scenes, until all too soon they’re two streets up and she’s outside her place. 

Karen takes one of the steps but turns back and rifles a hand through the bag. “Can I?” She holds up a fortune cookie.

“If you want the responsibility of him running at you for treats next time he sees you, knock yourself out,” Frank warns.

She bites her lip, pretends to think about it for a minute. Then she sets the bag down on the stoop away from Max so she can rip open the plastic properly. “I don’t think it’s fair to hog four fortunes all to myself,” she jokes.

Frank smirks and glances away before looking back when she breaks the cookie.

Max is indeed a gentle giant as he takes the treat from her, munching it happily. She unravels the paper inside. Her eyebrows raise and she looks at Frank as if she’s impressed. “He’s got a promotion on the horizon, lucky dog.”

He chuckles. “Yeah? About time he earns his keep.”

“You might want to lower those expectations,” she grins, hoisting the bag on her hip as she pulls out her keys. 

Frank rubs the dog’s ears while she steps up the rest of the way and unlocks the door. He’s casual about it, but it’s closer to darkness than dusk at this hour, and it feels an awful lot like he’s waiting to make sure she gets in alright. She appreciates that. Karen leans against the door jam after she gets it open. “Goodnight, Frank.”

“Goodnight, ma’am.”

“ _Karen_ ,” she reminds warmly. 

He licks his lips and her thoughts only go in a decidedly wrong direction. “Two weeks, you said?” He asks suddenly, tilting his head. “You can stop by anytime, you know. Spend time with Penny when you got a second to spare.”

A flush is itching up her cheeks and she grins. “I think you are the most persistent salesman I’ve ever met.”

“I’d give her to you for free,” he says, and her eyebrows shoot up. He shrugs. “I just know a good match when I see it.”

A laugh startles from her. “Oh yeah?” She clears her throat. “Would it surprise you if I said I’ve only had a cat before?”

Frank rolls his head a bit while he stares at her, a stare that says she’s like a book he’s reading, but then he glancing away at a passing car, and when he looks back, he’s huffing a laugh. “ _Nah_. Not particularly.”

“And you still think I’d be good with a dog?”

“You won over Max here, didn’t you?”

Karen grins again. “Alright, _alright_. You can stop selling. Goodnight,” she says, pointedly, but that’s mostly only for herself so she’ll close the door and stop falling into this easy bantering. _Bantering_ , that’s what she was going to start calling it. Not flirting. Definitely, totally not.

The last glimpse she gets is of him ushering Max away while he gives her a poor imitation of a wave over his shoulder. The stupidly happy look on her face stays all night.

* * *

She takes his advice and starts stopping in at the shop at least every other day, even though she isn’t picking anything up. Sometimes Frank is near the front when she walks in the door, sometimes not, but either way she scoops up Penny and lets the dog go no-bones in her lap while showering it with pets and kisses. She didn’t think she could love a pet this much after Whiskers, but there it is, that easy bond again.

Strange, to think about that with pets — or maybe it’s not, for anyone that’s had more than one. Karen’s more than _a little_ out of her element here.

The second time she stops by in the morning, she decides to get an extra coffee because she noticed there’s always a thermos tucked by the register, and then after seeing that unabashed appreciation wash across Frank’s face, she doesn’t stop. It is a little inconvenient, but she starts visiting more in the mornings, just so she can bring him coffee and get to see that look — _discreetly_. She’s not a complete weirdo.

* * *

Two weeks pass, a new month begins, and Karen finally moves.

Foggy and Matt help, and Charlie comes along for the ride. How a blind man can help so well with moving big pieces of furniture, she doesn’t understand, but with just coaching from her on where walls are, Matt has _absolutely_ _no_ problems. Karen’s a little preoccupied at one point arguing with her pissy landlord, anyway, the man lurking around and trying to convince her that she somehow owes another month of rent in order to leave. He, for one, is a terrible liar.

Foggy orders pizza and they have an impromptu sort of pizza party while helping her unpack some of her things. Charlie constantly jumps up and runs between them, begging for a taste. More than once he tries and fails to climb up Foggy’s head, since Foggy is sitting against the back of the couch, and Karen almost chokes from laughing too hard.

They leave before it gets too late, but she doesn’t sleep much that night anyway, thrumming too much with excitement about tomorrow.

* * *

Karen should feel bad about faking a sick call, but to be fair, she’s taken maybe ten percent of all her available sick days, and none of her vacation days so far. And she’s worked at Union Allied over two years. So, really, it’s not _that_ terrible.

Not that she dwells on that too much when she stops by the coffee stand to pick up the usual of two and then tries to walk at her usual, normal pace to _Frank’s Ruff & Tumble_. As if it’s just any other day. There’s someone being checked out at the register, so she loiters awkwardly in line until they’re finished, and then approaches when the door swings shut behind them.

Frank smiles gratefully, reaching out a hand automatically for his cup, but he sees through her facade of attempted calm easily. He raises an eyebrow. “Ma’am?”

Biting her lip, Karen sets her coffee down and fishes her notepad out of her purse. The list on it is nearly identical to the one Foggy had worked off of last month. She puts it on the counter, too, and looks at him hopefully. “Can I steal a couple minutes of your time?”

* * *

Frank flips the _Open/Closed_ sign and helps her cart Penny and all her new, essential dog supplies to her new apartment. He doesn’t hesitate, and she beams the entire time. Since her new apartment is further away than her last one, he insists on driving his truck, and she doesn’t argue. Besides, it’s easier this way since Max comes along for the journey too.

Max makes it his priority to jump and play with Penny over _every inch_ of her apartment as soon as she lets them through the door. Franks calls for him to calm down a couple different times, but mostly chuckles along with Karen, sharing different stories about the Pit Bull. It was hard to believe anyone had ever tried training him for dog fighting — he was way too gentle to fit that image. 

“What’s Penny’s story?” She asks after filling up the new water bowl and setting it down. “I noticed the scar on her neck.”

Frank’s jaw clenches and he glances to watch the dogs, frowns. “Don’t really know. Most of them I get at shelters, the pound. A whole case history comes with their name when I pick them up. But, uh…I found Penny myself. _Max_ found her. I was walking him and we got to this alley and he wouldn’t keep going, he just kept whining, so I checked it out. Found her next to a dumpster, bleeding from that cut.”

She raises a hand to cover her mouth, some tears stinging her eyes at the very thought of Penny left hurt and alone like that. Any dog, being left hurt and alone like that. “ _Jesus_.”

“But you wouldn’t know it, looking at her now….”

Karen rubs her cheek and then leans her arms against the counter, sighing. Another smile tugs at her lips when Penny goes running under the coffee table and Max, too big to follow, lays down next to it with his head underneath. Penny pats his head with her own. “They became fast friends, didn’t they?”

Uttering something inaudible, Frank scratches at his temple, and the tips of his ears go red. It pulls her gaze away and makes her watch him close. She likes picking up on these little tells, likes watching him get _flustered_. It’s at such odds with the rest of his commanding presence. The more time she’s spent around him, now, the more she’s been able to tell he was a soldier once. The way he carries himself is the most revealing — except at times like this, where he completely relaxes, leaned against the counter.

She thinks he looks good in her space. _Attractive_ , actually. Curse her mind.

“What? What am I missing?” She asks, leaning a bit across the counter.

“Penny was just a couple weeks old when I found her. She got her name from my daughter, Lisa — she’s got this book, _One Batch, Two Batch._ ” He shakes his head. “She’s obsessed with it. But, uh, after Penny got patched up, she was too young to leave alone too long, so she stayed with me for a while. Max has been looking out for her ever since.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t keep her,” she says, overwhelmingly curious as she observes how fond his expression becomes at the memories. 

Frank meets her smile with his own. “I wanted to give her another chance. And— _hell_ , Lisa was determined to make her her own, if she could. Maria would wring my neck if we had to figure out shared dog custody, too….But it worked out. She latched onto you right away.”

Inconvenient butterflies dance in her stomach and Karen tucks her hair back behind her ears again before blinking her gaze back up. “Well, you know _why_ that happened.”

His eyebrows raise.

“She was looking for someone that’d keep her close to you and Max.”

A quick laugh bursts from him and he shakes his head, eyeing her as she grins. She’d felt a bit nervous before saying it, before being so bold, but the reaction was worth it. And Karen was joking, anyway. Mostly.

“Is that so? Well, maybe I can ask to buy you coffee sometime. Only got a dozen cups to pay you back for.”

She bites her lip. “Those all make up for the no-charge discount you _insisted_ on giving me for Penny. Consider the debt even.”

“Maybe I just _want_ to buy you coffee,” he says, but it’s almost like he’s asking, twinkle in his eye.

Frank isn’t what she had in her plan for her life in the city. It’s not like she wrote down a cardboard cut-out of what to look for in a man, but she certainly wasn’t expecting to want to kiss the hell out of a pet shop owning, former soldier, divorced father of two kids. 

She’s come to the conclusion that all the plans she’s been working off of since moving from Vermont are _terrible_ , and she throws them right out of her mind. “Maybe I’d like that.”

* * *

The weekend comes around and he buys her that cup of coffee as they go for a walk with Max and Penny in tow. She shows him where her favorite stand is so he can visit it himself now, and then, since they’re headed that way, she stops in the cafe she loves and gets a sticky bun.

“I thought I was buying.”

“You got the coffee, wasn’t that the deal?”

They share the pastry on the way to a dog park he’s introducing her to, and maybe it’s kind of an intimate thing to do for a first date, but did this even qualify as a date? They’re blissfully _undefined_ and Karen’s completely alright with that as she laughs behind her hand at Frank grumbling about how annoying caramel is as he tries to wipe it off with a napkin and is only left with sticky fingers.

She’s still giggling in spurts when they walk into the park. Frank lets the dogs off their leashes so they can go wild as she throws away their cups and napkins. 

“You know—” Karen starts as she turns around, about to tease him again, but the words are cut off as he’s suddenly right there, cupping her face and drawing her close. 

His lips slant over hers and she doesn’t hesitate to grip his shoulders and kiss back. Heat coils down her spine as his tongue darts out at one point. She bites his lower lip, and grins against his lips at the sound he makes. 

All too soon it ends, before it gets too far, and he presses his forehead against hers as she chases his touch. “You have the _worst_ timing,” she breathes out, practically complaining, as she’s well aware they’re in public, near crowds of people. 

One kiss isn’t enough. Not if he kisses like _that_.

Frank smirks, more than a little smug. “Let me buy you dinner first.”

“Does that mean I get you to myself for the whole day?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Good.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Extra Headcanons:  
> -Frank found Max like he found Penny, abandoned on the streets, shortly after he returned home from his last tour. He opened the pet store mostly out of necessity because he got so focused on rescuing and rehabilitating abused and hurt pets.  
> -Frank and Maria divorced at ~an undetermined time~ but they're on good terms.  
> -The shop logo and title both come from the helping minds of Frank Jr and Lisa; he laughed at the title, but they were determined, so he went with the pun if that's what would make them happy.  
> -Karen's been in the city a while; she went to college here for an ~undetermined degree~ and after worked some less stable jobs before getting her position at Union Allied.  
> -After getting Penny, Karen would totally text pictures to Kevin and Foggy often, Foggy most of all at various times of day and night as a kind of karma. But then at one point she accidentally texts him an adorable photo of Frank sleeping, instead, and they both agree to not mention it (lol).  
> -Karen and Lisa would bond the most after this because of Penny; at some point, Lisa would have a kid approval moment where she would 'let' Karen take over the role of Penny's mom (since Lisa expected Frank to bring home Penny permanently, eventually, but then Karen happens, and she decides that since she still sees Penny a lot that she likes being like a sister to Penny instead. Kid logic).  
> -Not explicitly stated, but Matt is totally running around as the Man in the Mask. (Except he's more careful now because he has Charlie to think about, hehe). 
> 
> Thanks for reading!! :)


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